about this girl

I like the word girl. I use it on myself, though I am way past young. I like the spunkiness of it. The crisp shell of it. The tree-climbing toes of it. The forever learning of it.

I was a woman for a while. I did my time. But I’m all girl now.

I have adventures. I walk with a bear. I fly. I sing with trees.

One day I won’t be a girl anymore. I will be a golden bowl. And then I think I won’t be telling these stories anymore.

But until then, onward!

Oh. Maybe you’re asking what’s the point of all this. These are dreams of both the sleeping and the not sleeping variety. I find that telling them turns me into a musical instrument, and that’s a good thing. And maybe reading them might do the same for you, and so I share.